


Pleasant Nightmare

by CaptainCaptainJill



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for V (Cyberpunk 2077), Gender-Neutral V (Cyberpunk 2077), Gender-neutral Reader, Johnny Silverhand Being An Asshole, Johnny Silverhand is a dick - a dick you sadly can not have, Johnny is a horny hologram, Masturbation, Mind Control, Minor Spoilers, NSFW, One Shot, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Smut, Strong Language, These tags are wild, V is gender neutral, V is weak, masturbation via mind control, spoiler warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCaptainJill/pseuds/CaptainCaptainJill
Summary: Waking up one night, feeling all riled up, Johnny has a sweet and exiting proposal for you.Not that you get a chance to object anyway…
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Reader, Johnny Silverhand/V, Johnny Silverhand/You
Kudos: 25





	Pleasant Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> So, I recently got Cyberpunk and...what can I say, other than "oops" maybe? xD  
> I have absolutely no effin' clue where the heck this one came from. But since it is already there, why not share this dirty little fantasy with others insatiable thirsty for good old Johnny Silverhand.  
> Minor spoiler warning ahead, because despite being labeled as pwp there might be the faint hint of a plot. So be aware of that ;) But since I really just started playing the game there shouldn't be a lot of spoilers. Basically just some details revealed during the first 10ish hours or so.  
> I am sorry if this concept might be canon wise impossible but please note that I literally just started diving into the game.  
> The title and tiny, tiny bits of the story were inspired by the song "Pleasant Nightmare" by Danny Blu, which apparently is not available on Youtube anymore but should be on Spotify.  
> Anyway. Please enjoy :)

**Pleasant Nightmare**

_Night City never sleeps._

_You never truly rest._

_Haunted by an equally restless ghost._

_Haunted by his endless lust for revenge._

_An impossible coexistence predestined in ultimate damnation._

_The man with the silver hand._

_You love him, but you hate him and you need him._

_You need him here with you in Night City._

The sketchy back alley was only illuminated by dazzling neon lights. Red and blue and all shades in between. Trash bags piled up left and right, forming grey, ever shifting plastic castles, providing shelter and feast for the infinite number of rats living along the humans in Night City. The city that never slept, never came to rest. Just like you, since that one fateful day painfully transformed your life into a compromised and perverted abstract of existence. Through dying, being killed and resurrected, you had been given a futile second chance, only to learn about your now incredibly rapidly approaching appointment with the grim reaper. With death itself.

Heavy rain poured down on you. Every now and then loud thunder hollered from above, invisibly shaking the tremendous buildings. You were indifferent about the weather though. Why should you care? A ticking bomb lived inside your brain. Inside your mind. Consuming your consciousness. Relentlessly chewing up your _self_. Bite after bite. Bit by bit. _Byte after byte._ Carving the ghost from your shell. Until _he_ could take over the wheel for good.

You walked slowly, barely noticing anything. Somehow your preoccupied head was blocking out every sound around you, muffling the entire vicinity. Everything seemed wrapped up in cotton. Footfalls, thunder, cars. The city screamed at the top of her lungs and yet you didn't heard a single beep. Not even your own heartbeat.

Time stretched unnaturally. While taking the next step your movements slowed down until you froze in place. A prickling sensation fanned across the back of your neck. Calling your senses to finally pay attention, indicating a danger lurking near by.

And like the flick of a switch the neon lights died all together. _Blackout_. The noiseless darkness engulfed you. Despite being trapped in a void you could still surmise the filthy alley. Two red glowing dots appeared a couple of arm lengths in front of you. While you glanced around more pairs of lights popped up. Red eyes burned in the dark. Scrutinizing you. Judging you and your life choices. All of your failures and missed opportunities. Taunting you for the grave sorrow and pain your actions caused for others. Mostly for the ones you loved dearly. God, you missed him. Your poor _choomba_.

Lightning flickered, swallowed the glooming eyes and momentarily painted a dozen of bizarre shadows on the walls. Casted by invisible creatures, horrible demons. The manifestations of your misery and sins. Thunder followed suit. And as darkness fell again the eyes were gone.

Another flash of brightness. It appeared for way longer than it should, than it naturally was capable of. Neither the eyes nor the shadows reemerged. Instead you stared directly into the hungry mouth of a gun, greedily baring its teeth. You managed to take a deep breath. Then the trigger clicked. An incredibly loud gunshot echoed between the alley walls. A single silver bullet pierced straight through your skull. Shattering bone, pervading brain matter. There was no pain.

Paradoxically your body fell forward. And strangely your vision staid upright. With body and soul split in two, you watched yourself sinking lifelessly to the ground.

A faint blue light flickered in your peripheral view and the familiar silhouette stepped up next to you. Johnny glanced down at your bleeding corpse and back up to you.

"See what it feels like to be me?", he asked, almost emotionless.

Then his tone changed drastically and with a distressed face he cursed, "Oh fuck, V."

Your body was abruptly shaken and you jolted, sitting bolt upright in bed. Coated with a thin layer of cold sweat and the synthetic fabric of your nightgown sticking to your skin, but ultimately relieved you had escaped the unsettling nightmare surrounding the omnipresent topic of your imminent death.

When waking up you noticed two things. One, it was still the middle of the night. About half an hour past midnight, if the ugly clock lounging in the niche serving as a nightstand was working properly. And two, you were more than slightly aroused. The latter obviously confused you. But perhaps you were just as sick as this damned city by now. Or the psycho terrorist residing in your brain had chopped off another piece of your beloved, fragile sanity.

Speaking of the devil. You heard Johnny long before spotting the blue glitch light. He was moaning self-indulgently. Turning your head you grasped in surprise. _What the hell?_ He was laying next to you on the bed. Naked. Legs widely spread and rock hard member in his human hand. A wildly obscene picture.

"V..", he mumbled, voice notably slurred.

Sensing your attention he turned his face towards you and opened his eyes. They were lust clouded, pupils blown wide. He continued stroking himself and your breath hitched as a sparkling tingle shot down to your core, reminding you of the excitement in your pants.

"Fuck. You look so hot all riled up. Wanna join me?" His voice was darker than usual. And his proposal sounded more like a demand rather than a question.

You stared at him in disbelieve. Swallowing thickly you were having a hard time processing the scene that was unfolding in front of you. Now this certainly explained the throbbing between your legs.

"This is ridiculous.", you noted with mixed feelings, still blinking abundantly irritated by this ludicrousness.

"Well I think this is brilliant.", Johnny grinned mischievously.

"Right..", you said hesitantly, "Do whatever you have to. I’ll just go and get a drink."

"And what about that?", he nodded towards your crotch.

"That is non of your business.", you finally managed to peel your eyes off of him, ready to get up and grab a strong drink in order to purge this cursed image from your soul.

However, Johnny had different plans. Of cause he had.

"Not so fast, sweetheart."

"Don’t..", you warned, deciding you should go for the pills instead or at least to take one before the drink.

"Oh come on, V.", he said. And then he pulled at your consciousness. Harshly.

"Concede me some of that petty control, so I can blow off some steam. It will be good for both of us. Let me fuck you."

"This..is ridiculous.", you repeated, shaking your head, trying to get rid of him. "Cut it out, Silverhand, or I cut you out!" You were suddenly out of breath.

"I know how badly you want it. I am inside your little mushy brain, remember? I read your miserable thoughts before you even think them. You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me." A bitter truth you bitterly tried to deny for preferably as long as possible.

You fought him ferociously. But he was unyieldingly shaking your intellect, scratching at your mind. His metal claw dug into the most vulnerable, banged up section of your sanity. Violently ripping out cables and disarming the security measures keeping him at bay. A painful ripple shot through your head. Channeling into the spot right behind your eyes. Just like a regular migraine, if those could turn your brains into a puddle of goo. While internally wrestling the parasite you struggled hard against his overwrite. You were rapidly loosing your ground.

Then his form flickered. The next second he was right above you, scaring the living shit out of you, causing you to fall backwards into the pillow. An unfortunate moment of negligence. The door stood ajar and he shoved his foot right in, slowly forcing it open.

Chuckling he placed his hands on your neck. Fingers closing around your windpipe. Even though he could not physically touch you, you _felt_ his grip. Breathing became incredibly hard. You reached out, throwing useless punches at the ghost above you like a lunatic. Your fists only stirred the air, leaving your disembodied assailant unimpressed.

"Hush hush, calm down, V. You only make this harder for yourself."

Once colorful stars began to dance in your vision he let go. Unclenching the imagined grip on your throat. He had gotten what he wanted. Power and control. At least parts of it. The _right_ parts.

"Bastard..", you spat, coughing and calming your breath.

Johnny smiled, seemingly satisfied. "Don’t worry, sweetheart, you won’t regret this."

A subtle threat wrapped up in a dangerous promise. Oh how you hated him and his smug grin. Angrily you glared up at your antagonist, well aware you stood no chance against him right now. Not until he handed over the reigns again or you managed to snatch it forcefully from him. Lacking the mental strength at the moment, you prayed for him to let it slip. Even though it was pointless. He would never let you go.

"Too bad I can not really fuck you into the mattress. But this will be pleasing for both of us."

His slightly translucent form hovered above you like the apparition he was. Fickle and inconsistent, flickering every now and then, but at the same time calm and composed. The unbodied materialization of contradiction. Just like the existence of your shared fate.

"And now.."

Visibly shocked you had to observe how your right arm lifted itself. He controlled your limb with his sheer will. A little uncoordinated your hand moved towards your face and patted your cheek in an odd attempt to comfort.

"What are you doing?" Your voice trembled as panic etched at the peripheral of your consciousness.

"I am doing you, well us, a favor."

Apparently he quickly got a hang of the controls and your hand moved more and more confidently. You touched your chest. No, he made you do it. So in a twisted way he was the one touching you. You could feel your heartbeat sped up beneath your fingertips, as they slowly swept across your torso.

"How about we loose that shirt, huh?", he asked, lips curled up into a wicked smile.

Unable to withdraw from the strings with which he piloted your body, you took off your shirt, tossing it aside and obediently sinking back into the cushion. Both your hands were placed on your chest, rubbing the delicate skin.

"Stop it!", you protested, "Johnny, I swear.."

Your dissent died abruptly when you roughly pinched your nipples. You should have seen it coming. This was your body after all, but with Johnny behind the control panel you were lost.

He licked his lips, enjoying the rather delicious sight of you playing with your chest.

"I would give a lot to bite those nips. Teasing them with my tongue."

Instead your fingers flicked the hardening buds. A small sigh escaped your mouth, preventing further objection. Face flushed you bit the inside of your cheek. Oh you definitely hated him.

Johnny was seated on your hip. His naked torso glowed like a firefly in the dim light of your apartment, emitting a blue shimmer projected on your skin. A fever dream. Pure Insanity.

You wished you had taken the medicine capable of blocking him out, smacking yourself for this carelessness. And yet part of you longed to go down the rabbit hole, to follow the holographic herald of mania and play along. How much harm could it be? Just this once. The yearning ache in your lower half clearly spoke loudly for itself, irrevocably staining your ability to reason. His metal fingers were clenched around your soul. Squeezing out every last drop of self-preservation, drying out your resistance. He stared into you and your walls came crumbling down. Leaving you out in the open deprived of all hiding places. One more glance into his blazing eyes and you were a goner. Eternally forsaken.

Johnny guided your hands over your body. Slowly moving down. Leaving behind a burning path on your skin all the way down to the hem of your panties.

"Now we get there."

You unwillingly got rid of your underwear. Throwing the thin fabric aside you felt incredibly vulnerable. It wasn't the first time Johnny saw you naked. He had surprised you in the shower a few times. And you were pretty sure he could just watch you from behind your eyes anytime given. This, however, was different. More intimate. And even more wrong. He could see and sense how embarrassingly turned on you were. With your hot-red cheeks, you felt shy beneath his hungry gaze. This surreal situation was more than strange.

"Let's start by pretending this was my hand.", he murmured, face plastered with anticipation for your reaction.

You flinched as you palmed your sex, feeling your arousal. It was a grotesque sensation. Your arms were controlled by him, causing a lag in the neural feedback. Yet you felt everything so strong. Perhaps his artificial synaptic stimuli were overlapping with yours.

In order to visually enhance the feeling Johnny staid seated on top of you, while your hands got down to work. You lazily caressed the insides of your thighs, fingertips slowly wandering back to your middle. The movements were gentle. He was still testing the waters, but gained confidence every second. You desperately tried to keep your mouth shut, denying him a sweet declaration of your defeat. He chuckled at your embarrassed struggle, fully aware he was about to break you. You never stood a chance. The first stroke hit you like an electric shock. A strangled moan escaped your lips. _Checkmate_.

"Does this feel good?", he purred.

You nodded eagerly, even though you didn’t wanted to. Fuelled by your approbation he set up a steady pace for your hand. Unable to escape his wicked schemes you were giving in. Slowly drifting into the abyss. This was so wrong, yet it felt so heavenly.

Johnny shifted above you, bending down his head. Your faces were almost touching. Despite being unable to really touch, you felt his breath fanning your cheek. It was a perfect illusion. He pressed his lips onto yours. Or at least he pretended to do so. Yet you sensed a flicker of static. Comparable with the tingling caused by grabbing a charging electric device. His hands seemingly roamed your body. An impalpable touch. From your point of view it looked real. And despite being totally not real, you could feel his touch. Body hair lifting in the wake of his bluely glowing, glitching tangency.

Your fingers were applying the right amount of pressure at the perfect angle, caressing the tender flesh. The phantom of the rockerboy weightlessly pressed himself onto your body, whispering dirty phrases into your ear, while you fiercely rutted against your hand.

"Johnny..", you sighed.

"That’s the spirit.", he grinned against your shoulder.

The unoccupied hand found purpose in playing with your nipple and rubbing your chest again.

"I wish I could just burry my cock in you.", he said. "I bet your slutty hole feels nice and tight."

His words alone held the power to sent little waves of pleasure into your core. The dark and rough voice resonated in your form. Your fingers started massaging a sweet spot, eliciting even sweeter sounds from you. He knew exactly what he had to do. As if he knew your body by heart, he pushed your buttons, one by one, turning you into a shivering mess. Through the shared bond he felt your pleasure as if it was his. And when he started pumping his shaft you felt his lust as well.

Your consciousness was dancing with his. Two fleeting entities inseparably entangled, welded together in existence and non-existence. Sheer breathtaking contrast. He was nothing but a specter. Binary code etched into a human brain. A second ghost in your shell. A parasite slowly killing its host. You knew you would never get rid of him, even if you tried, and God knew you had tried. But in this shared moment of intimacy and pleasure your mind desperately reached out for him. You were clinging to his metal arm, ferociously anxious he might disappear. Afraid he might leave you alone in this dreadful world, you held him tight, inviting him to stay forever, all while silently begging him to ruin you, so you could feel alive one more time.

Your lustful whines were divine music to his ears.

"You moan like a high class joytoy.", he praised.

"And you fuck like one.", you boldly retorted, breathing heavily.

"Oh please, I am so much better.", there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. "The best you will ever have."

You snorted, even though it was a bad idea to test his pompous ego. Of cause you were gonna pay for that. Realization hit you when he suddenly stopped your movements. Your hands were still. Unable to move you groaned in frustration.

"What the hell? Why did you stop?", you cursed.

Johnny's face held a cruel grin.

"Beg for it.", he demanded.

"Fuck you."

"I would if I could, but here we are."

"You're an asshole, Silverhand."

He laughed. "What a shame."

Your hands folded themselves in front of your chest. The defensive posture mirrored his dissatisfaction with your unwillingness to give up the last bit of your dignity as well.

"What now?" You cautiously eyed him.

"I am gonna leave you high and dry, unless you give me a real good reason to finish what we started.", his stern gaze left little room for misunderstanding. He wouldn’t negotiate.

"Go to hell!", you growled.

"We will go to hell together, sweetheart. But we can have some fun beforehand."

He made you unfold your arms, one hand sneaking back down, fingertips ghosting over your sensitive skin, teasing you. Greedily you leaned into your own touch, seeking friction, choking out an angry moan.

"Will you be a good little joytoy and beg for more?"

"Why the fuck should I? I don’t need you to get off."

"Because I can do this.", he said and your arms moved.

"Don't you dare.", you hissed.

"Stop me then." What an unfair challenge.

"I want to, but someone fucked up my brain."

You felt your own fingers clasping around your throat.

"Stop. Cut the crap!", panic had pitched your voice a few notes higher.

Unimpressed he looked down at you, well aware you could do nothing to stop him. You were held at mercy by his will. Now this was a weird image. You were about to choke yourself.

"Beg or I turn the lights out.", he smirked, "And when you’re back up, we’ll try again."

"What the fuck? You shitbag."

There was no way you could regain control. Not like this. He held all the strings in his metal fingers, while teasing you with his dirty grin. The hands on your neck squeezed. This time it was very much real.

"Fine!", you yelled, "Please Johnny. I beg you." Face flushed, utterly embarrassed. This was truly ridiculous.

"Let me hear it. I need to know you mean it."

And so you begged.

You begged him to fuck you with your hands. To use your fingers on your needy body, admitting how much of a slut you were. How much you needed him and only him, in order to grant you release, because he was the only one who could do so. Your dignity fell to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces. He voraciously absorbed your testimony.

Satisfied with your obedience he complied. And rewarded you with a rough pace. Your hips bucked. Apparently he could not control your body’s fierce reaction. You barely noticed the shamefully lewd sounds caused by the hand on your sex, because you were enthralled by his sinful voice sweet-talking to you.

Entering a state of pure bliss your gaze wandered, hardly able to focus on anything, in a sloppy pattern across the ghost above you. Silver, crimson and black faded together at the spot where his flesh shoulder turned into the metal prosthetic. His namesake, the silver hand. He was nothing more than that. Tattoos and worn out boots and attitude. A rockerboy with dark hair and an oversize ego. Past greatness that was mingled with vast overestimation, he was just a remnant of fading glory from a reneged past.

Flashing lights began washing over you, sweeping your soul away with them. His eyes were absorbing all of what was left of your concentration. Deep and endless orbs. Painted in the darkest brown, yet golden. Sparkling perpetually, like fancy alcohol served in a dirty glass. Ice cubes clanging. A small drop of the luxury liquor trickling down the stained drinking vessel, mixing with condensate water and pooling at the bottom, ultimately dripping down and landing on equally stained dark leather boots. Serving as the silent evidence of an eventful night.

The heat inside your core increased when your hands expertly worked on your most sensitive spots under his thoughtful guidance. Neon lights were madly dancing behind your eyes. Red and blue and all shades in between. Moments later your circuits were fried and multiple fuses jumped out. Temporarily unable to process any logic thoughts, your feelings were running in a loop, rendering you delightfully high.

Much to your astonishment Johnny ejaculated with blue, ephemeral sparks shooting across your torso.

Your vision was glitching out. Colorful pixels chasing each other across the internal aether of your cerebral cortex. The sound of you falling apart send a shockwave through Johnnys flickering form. He took part in the symphony of unrestrained moans praising the moment of relief that lasted for an immeasurable instant. Melting your minds together, temporarily creating a inseparable amalgamation of both of your ghosts, sharing the shell unquestioningly and free from doubt. An otherwise impossible state starkly contrasting from your everyday cohabitation.

The room was filled with your ragged breathing. His vivid apparition breathlessly panted into your face and rested his forehead against yours. An oddly comforting gesture. He smiled sincerely. Slowly you caught yourself and managed to calm your shaking form. Gently floating through ones and zeros until you reconnected with the world.

Through the slim cracks in the blinds the presence of the sleepless city seeped inside your apartment. Brightness and loudness gratefully muffled by the window glass. An everlasting beacon for all kinds of depressed souls. A sick city filled to the brim with sick people. You were definitively one of them. Unable to escape your fate, just like the rest of them.

Johnny laid next to you, lit cigarette in his hand. He took a long drag and exhaled blue, glitchy hologram fume.

"I could definitely use a real smoke right now.", he said in a suave tone, coyly winking at you.

You rolled your eyes, groaning notably annoyed. "In your dreams, rockerboy."

"Don’t be mean."

"You’re an asshole, Silverhand."

He just chuckled.

Turning away to catch the rest of the nights sleep, a slightly satisfied smile snuck onto your face. Maybe this was not too bad after all. Sure you were going to die, but why not make the most of your remaining time?

As you slowly drifted away, you faintly noticed how Johnny brought his head next to yours, sheepishly kissing your cheek.

"I love you too, V. Sleep tight."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
